


A Natural Stylist

by Gangstertogangster



Category: Luke Cage (TV)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gangstertogangster/pseuds/Gangstertogangster
Summary: Another bonding moment for Hernan and HonorAzareth gave me this story idea, inspired by the short animated film Hair Love. I know very little about hair in general, so I tried to do some learning and make it not inaccurate.
Relationships: Shades Alvarez/Mariah Dillard
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	A Natural Stylist

Hernan hardly ever sweated, except for right now.

His three year old daughter's thick black curls were sprawled out before him, and it was unlike anything he had ever had to deal with. He loved natural hair, but he never had to do any hair care for anybody before. Not for any of the girls he got with, not for Darius, not for anybody. His wife didn’t do that, she usually got a perm, so she was no exception. 

Her hair was still short, so he didn’t have to worry about more complicated styling, but he still found himself not knowing what came next. He’d been practicing nonstop on various wigs he purchased, using various conditioners and scrunchies and cocoa butters and hair ties and rubber bands. His wife made fun of him so often for spending so much time doing this. But he’d be damned if he let Alex or even Tilda take this from him. Although, he thought, it wouldn't hurt to learn some styles from her in case Honor wanted to rock some afro-puffs like Tilda was lately. 

He’d scornfully mocked his wife, back when they first met for the first real time, saying that by 2016 she would be lucky do be a greeter at the Harlem Hair Expo. Now, he thought, he’d not even be allowed in the door, with how badly his efforts were proving on these wigs and the long suffering mannequin head they rested on. 

Now, he was prepared. Now, he separated Honor’s thick curls into parts, as many tutorials advised. He would use the hair ties he sported on his wrist, replacing his usual gold watch. His daugher hollered out for him to start, exclaiming, “Vamos papi, por favor!” 

Honor sat in a high chair in front of the bathroom sink, because the first couple of times he tried this, she almost slipped right out of his grasp. And trying to do her hair while holding her still was one of the hardest things he’d had to do as a parent so far. 

Honor began to cry as he fussed with her hair, pulling it in different directions, trying to separate it into sections. He’d thought he’d taken care of the hair with the conditioner, but she still cried out in pain. He took a deep breath as he reached out before him on the bathroom vanity for the curling cream. He shook his head and went for the detangling spray first. Honor kept crying at her reflection in the wide bathroom mirror, exclaiming “Owwwww owww owww!” Hernan kept cooing to her, “mija, shhhhh, mija, mami, cálmate...” 

His hands felt sticky but he ignored the urge to get his gloves. He was not gonna use gloves on his own daughter’s hair. He remembered the tips from all those youtube videos, too many to choose from, and used the detangler on her hair even as she nearly cried herself sick. Then, in between his shushes, he wrestled the rubber bands off his wrist. 

He kissed her cheek, her forehead. She began to quiet down, sniffling. He got back to parting her hair, then working it with the curling cream. 

He parted her hair into sections once more, though it wasn’t as bothersome on her scalp as before. He worked his fingers through his daughter’s hair and ultimately got it free of tangles. Some beads of sweat were shed by him and tears by her but it got done. Hernan, if anything, was a fast learner.

The parting was a bit more difficult. But through more sweat and a whole lot more of Honor’s tears, he managed to get her hair parted. He kept sweetly reassuring the toddler, saying “shhh mami, we good...” 

He managed in the end to get it done up into a nice bun. Hernan brought a hand mirror over to his kid, showed her her reflection. She made a little bit of a face, but the three year old did a sort of shrug. She made a noise sort of like “ehhh.” After a pause she added, “OK. Gracias.” Hernan set the mirror down, washed his hands of the creams and conditioners, rolled down his sleeves, put his gold watch back on. 

He smiled to his kid, answering, “De nada, mija.”

She smiled and giggled, squirming in the high chair.

He snapped some pictures on his phone, sent them to his wife. The gray dots appeared, vanished, appeared again. Finally, Mariah responded: “Not half bad. Edges need work.” 

Hernan chuckled a little at that answer. Then, she texted again: “Our baby girl ain’t half bad either. But I think she’s throwing you some shade with that look.”

Hernan shook his head, grinning. Honor was, in fact, giving him a bit of a side eye in the pictures. As if she knew what he was looking at, she giggled and cooed “Papi!” Hernan smiled at her, kissed the top of her head, right on the part in the center.


End file.
